The Zombie Hunger Games
by randommonks
Summary: With public interest in the Games waning, Seneca Crane sees an opportunity to inject a little popular culture to spice things up- zombies. What could possibly go wrong? Rated M because zombies love brains and guts.
1. Prologue

"_President Snow," Gamemaker Seneca Crane said with a slight bow, steping into the immaculate office, "we would like to respectfully try something new for the Games this year."_

"_Go on, Seneca," Snow prodded. "You know I am always looking for fresh ideas."_

"_The popularity of the zombie phenomenon has been astronomical in the Capitol," Crane explained. "We would like to work with the producers of one of the shows in that genre to arm an arena this year."_

_Leaning back in his chair, the calculating mind of Panem's President turned the idea over. He personally enjoyed those types of shows, and the enthusiasm for the Hunger Games had waned slightly since its inception over 73 years ago as the fickel Capitol residents grew weary of the same general plot. Perhaps it was time to try something new for the 74__th__ Games._

"_Very well," he acquiesced. "But know this, Seneca. Should these Games fail for any reason, I'll hold you personally responsible."_

_Crane paled, but nodded and bowed his way out of Snow's office. He knew that his plan was foolproof._

Now, several months later, staring out at the arena that had been painstakingly built to resemble the farmhouse in the show along with the surrounding lands, he felt his chest swell with pride. This was his third year as Head Gamemaker, and this would be his crowning glory. He would go down as the best in the history of the Hunger Games, surpassing even the creators and his predecessor, who had managed to introduce a dragon into the arena. Ratings that year had skyrocketed, even though the beast had managed to burn most of the arena and its occupants to a crisp. It was a major scientific feat, and miniature dragons were all the rage that year. Hopefully the Capitol scientists could tamp down on the aggression present in the zombies they created for the show and arena when the citizens wanted them as pets.

The tributes wouldn't know what tore apart their rib cages...

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**Author's Note:** Just an idea I had floating around in my head as I watched the season finale of the Walking Dead. Chapters will be from one tribute's POV starting with the initial launch, and will cover the entire time that tribute is in the arena. Some events may be repeated, so I'll try to keep the mundanity to a minimum. Depending on how well the tribute does, some chapters may be only a few sentences long, or some may have to encompass several parts. Reviews are always appreciated!


	2. Chapter 1: Glimmer

Chapter 1: Glimmer

Mild panic. This was not what I had trained for. We were supposed to band together as a select group of tributes, defend the Cornucopia against those who wished to rob it, and methodically hunt down the other tributes.

The minute I had emerged out of the tunnel into the arena, my glass case had been accosted by a rotting corpse, held upright on unsteady legs that revealed bone and reeking of decay. Its eyes were oozing black liquid, deflated inside their sockets. Its nose appeared to have been picked away by birds and lips were also eaten away to reveal grey, chipped teeth in a permanent grin. A scream to my right seemed to draw its attention away from me, and it lumbered away toward a girl huddled against the wall of her tube, uttering an eerie groan that could be heard over the girl's hysterical shrieks.

Could they be killed? They looked already dead.

The Cornucopia was stocked with its usual supply of weapons, I even saw several guns in the mix, unusual since they killed too quickly for sport. Above the tree line of the forest surrounding the clearing we were in, sitting on top of a hill, I saw a large house with a barn. The area appeared to be fenced in, and seemed to be the only location free of the infestation of dead things, to which I had given the name Shufflers.

The gong rang out, and, as the glass around our platforms dissipated, I made a mad dash for the Cornucopia. One thing was very clear to me, I would not be able to kill the dead as easily as the living tributes. The female tribute from District 10 got into my way, and I shoved her into a nearby dead thing; her screams quickly cut off by the hoard that descended on her. They seemed slow, which made dodging around them easy. The Cornucopia was surrounded by dozens of them, but my allies were rapidly figuring out that they coudl be killed. By the time that I arrived at the golden horn, heads littered the ground, mouths still snarling and teeth snapping.

I pulled back my leg to kick one away from me, when I felt a bite on my ankle. One of the heads, unnoticed by me, had latched onto my leg, tearing away at the skin and muscle. I could even see it trying to swallow. Picking up a machete sitting nearby, I slammed the blade against its skull, splitting through to the brains, which oozed out in bloody, black chunks. Pulling the head from me, I threw it as hard as I could away, bending to inspect my wound. It didn't look too bad, and I could still hold weight on it. I turned to the other disembodied heads, and quickly smashed out their brains, finally halting their movements. I saw Cato, a small distance to my left, still hacking off heads with glee, keeping count of each of his "kills."

"Stop that you moron!" I shouted at him angrily. "They don't stop moving until you smash through the brain."

"Whatever you say, gorgeous," he shouted back, exhilarated. I did notice him aiming for the heads instead of just chopping them off, however.

After about 30 minutes of fighting off the more foolish tributes and an endless stream of Shufflers, we were starting to tire, and Clove was running out of knives.

"Let's make for that house on the hill up there," I shouted to the group. Hearing a collective agreement, we gathered what supplies we could carry, and ran for higher ground. As we approached the fence surrounding the farm, gun fire erupted around us, several bullets hitting the ground in front of me and spraying dirt in my face. Ducking back into the forest, we realized that the area already seemed to be occupied. Eyeing the herd of Shufflers limping toward us, I suddenly felt a sharp pain coming from my bit ankle. Thinking it was another loose head, I kicked out again, and managed to connect with Marvel's shin.

"What the hell was that for," he hissed at me, not daring to yell.

"I felt something bite me again!" I screamed.

"Shut up!" Marvel clamped a hand around my mouth, but immediately let me go when I attempted to bite him.

"She's burning up," Marvel said, disgusted. "She'll just slow us down; let's just leave her here."

I could suddenly hear and see the blood at his neck pulsing. I needed to bite him. It would make the burning throughout my body go away, and take away this sudden hunger that had grasped me. I lunged toward him, mouth gaping hoping to be able to tear at something bloody. I managed to tackle him to the ground before a sharp blade pierced my head, and the world darkened.

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**Author's Note:** Poor Glimmer, she always has to die in some weird funky haze. Reviews are always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3: Marvel

Chapter 2: Marvel

Stunned alarm. This definitely wasn't covered in training. Those things looked dead already. There was one of them heading my way and when the glass around my platform disappeared and the gong sounded, I immediately ran for it, kicking it squarely in the chest. Reconnecting with the alliance at the Cornucopia, I grabbed a sword and shoved it through the stomach of the tribute from District 9. She fell over immediately, and was swarmed by the walking dead things.

Our retreat to the farmhouse had not gone over as well as hoped, and I thought I was a goner when Glimmer, mouth drooling and eyes wild, leapt at me. I had hoped to reach one of my knives on my belt, when suddenly her blood was sprayed onto my face, chunks of her brain landing in my mouth as she fell limp on top of me. Pushing off her dead weight, I saw a hand hover in front of my face. Allowing it to help me up, I finally got a good look at my rescuer- Peeta, the Lover Boy tribute from District 12.

"Shouldn't you be with your girl?" I panted, wiping blood from my face with my jacket sleeve.

He shrugged. "I lost her in the confusion. Thought I might join up with you guys instead."

Cato snorted. "What makes you think that we'll be willing to let you join?" he asked, as he lopped cleanly through the skull of an approaching dead thing.

"You're going to need all the help you can get just to keep an eye out for those things," Peeta stated, jerking his thumb at a female corpse shuffling toward us. Her body looked recently deceased and her clothes were wrinkled, but still fresh. I would have put her down for alive if not for the creepy groaning and the characteristic limp that the dead things had.

"Let him stay, Cato," I argued, throwing a spear through her head. "He's right."

Grunting, Cato headed away toward open plains with swaying grasses that seemed relatively empty of the dead. Stopping in the middle, he said that we should check the packs to see what we managed to take away from the Cornucopia. I handed one of my backpacks I grabbed to Peeta, and rifled through the one I kept. I found woven nets, spearheads, a full water bottle, a large pack of dried beef, a box of bullets, and a small caliber gun. I held the thing in my hand, wondering if it would be powerful enough to penetrate a skull. I raised it, clicking the safety off when a fearful voice rang out through the growing darkness.

"If you guys promise not to kill me right away, I'll make it possible for you to guard your food and weapons while still hunting for the other tributes."

"Who's out there?" Cato hissed. "Keep your voice down and come out of your hiding."

A small boy rose out of the tall grass, hands trembling as he slowly raised them above his head. Cato sneered, and stalked toward him with his sword raised.

"Wait," his district partner, Clove, warned, grabbing his arm. "He might be of use to us. What did you have in mind, kid?"

"I dug out some of the mines under our launch platforms," he stated, holding up a small disc. "If you put a perimeter of these around the supplies you want to protect, you can keep the heavier stuff here and just take out what you need."

"And what will prevent it from blowing us up?" I asked, skeptical.

"I'll stay here with them," he squeaked. "I can remember where I put the mines, and so if you need something I can get it for you."

Snorting, Cato suggested that we kill him and throw the mines into the forest to see what we could blow up with them. Fortunately for the boy, the daily death count had started, and our attention turned to 12 faces that were projected into the sky, starting with Glimmer. At least her death wasn't wasted; we now knew to keep from being bitten by the dead or we'd turn into one. The memory of her crazed eyes and slack-jawed face sent a shudder through my spine.

"Let him do it, Cato," Clove suggested when the anthem ended. "It's not like it will hurt anything and he won't get far if he double crosses us."

Shrugging, Cato told the boy to get started then. We piled the tents, medical supplies, and most of the food on the ground while the boy went around placing the mines and reactivating them.

"Remember, don't come near these," he warned.

"Yeah, yeah," Cato waved. "Let's go find some more of those tributes before it gets too late."

We set off back toward the forest, each of us armed with a gun, Cato's almost laughably large, if I were stupid enough to laugh at Cato. Not far into the forest, I saw a light up ahead; some desperate tribute had started a fire to help ward off the cold. Tapping Cato's arm, I silently gestured toward it; he nodded and we broke into a run. Bursting into a small clearing, a group of willows off to the side, Cato ignored the pleas of the District 8 girl and ran her through with a quick thrust of his sword. High fiving him and grinning, we stomped out the fire but froze when a guttural groan rang out throughout the forest.

"Let's get out of here," the District 4 girl muttered. "They're attracted to the smell of blood."

We quickly abandoned the clearing, heading toward the grove of willows. We stopped when Cato muttered that he didn't hear the cannon. While we were arguing amongst ourselves, Peeta volunteered to go back and finally kill her. We heard a gunshot ring out and footsteps running back toward us, accompanied by the sound of the cannon. He yelled for us to run, that the shot had attracted a herd of them. We quickly ran back to the plains, which was still empty of the dead things.

Setting up the tents, we rotated watches and resigned ourselves to a long night. Sitting with Peeta the first watch, I looked him over. He was not very tall or imposing, but had some strength to him.

"So what'd you do in 12?" I asked him.

"I worked in my parents' bakery," he answered. "I mostly did the heavy lifting but I liked to frost too."

Snorting, I told him that art was my favorite topic in school. "I was pretty much shit in every other subject."

He let out a small smile. I nudged him, asking what was bothering him.

"When I got back to the clearing with the girl, there were a dozen of those mutts all over her tearing at her flesh and eating her alive," he mumbled, shaking. "I tried to aim for her head, but I missed. All the mutts then looked up at me and started to shuffle toward me. I froze, but then I saw the girl push herself off the ground. Her eyes were blank and her intestines were spilling out of her stomach and dragging behind her, but she was still coming toward me. That's when I started running."

I shuddered again as I remembered my close encounter with Glimmer. I clapped him on the shoulder, telling him that we had each others' backs for now. We woke up Cato and Clove after a few hours, and crawled into their tent. When we woke up shortly after dawn, we ate generously from the supply of dried and fresh food, rearming ourselves for the day's hunt. I handed Peeta a set of bow and arrows, taking up several spears myself before heading out.

We spent the next couple of days not encountering any tributes, although we had encounters with several large hoards of the dead mutts. On the 5th day, however, we treed the Girl on Fire. The morning began with a wall of fire, which only meant that we were running away from flaming dead mutts while choking on smoke. We stumbled upon her with a nasty burn on her leg, but she still managed to evade us and scurry up a tall tree. Cato tried to climb up after her, but only managed to bruise his ass when he came tumbling down. Peeta half-heartedly shot an arrow in the air, missing her by a long ways.

On his advice, we left her up there for the night, all of us exhausted by our run trying to escape being eaten and broiled alive. We set the girl from 4 to take the first watch, and I collapsed on the ground at the base of the tree.

Next thing I was aware of was a groan directly in front of my face, hands ripping at my jacket. I jerked up, slamming my head into the skull of the mutt hovering over me. Taking a panicked look around, I noticed that we were surrounded by them in all directions. I woke the rest of the group by shouting that we needed to get out of there; looking up, I noticed the girl in the tree had sliced her hand, letting her blood drip onto the ground. Gnashing my teeth, and vowing revenge, I ran back to the area with our supplies, abandoning the group to their own devices. I heard a high pitched scream behind me, followed by the cannon, as I ran. Breaking into the open area from the forest, I ran directly toward the District 3 boy, who was hopping an odd pattern away from the supply pile toward me.

"What happened?" he asked urgently.

"Mutt attack," I murmured. "The Girl on Fire set them on us. We'll see if any of the others made it out alive."

Cato and Clove were the only ones to return.

"What happened to Peeta?" I asked hesitantly.

"The bastard betrayed us!" Cato exploded. I immediately hushed him, not wanting to attract any mutts to our location. "I pushed him toward a group of them and Clove and I ran out of there."

Sigh. I guess I should have seen this coming.

"And the District 4 girl?" I inquired, curious since she had proven herself during training she was no weakling.

"She fell asleep on her watch, so I let the dead mutts eat her," Cato replied, a savage look on his face.

We spend the next couple of days just recovering from smoke inhalation and fending off the mutts that stumbled on our plains. We went out to refill our water a few times from a nearby well. On the 3rd day, the 8th overall day of the Games, we finally felt well enough to hunt tributes again. We left the supplies in the care of the boy again and had almost reached the border of the tree line when Cato stopped us, pointing toward the southern part of the woods. There was a distinct smoke line rising out of the trees.

"I dunno, Cato," I cautioned. "They could be setting a trap."

"Trap or not," Cato waved. "There's someone setting those fires. When I find them, I kill them in my own way, no one interferes."

He tramped off into the forest after that little speech, Clove and I following with eye rolls. He seemed to be the only one of us who didn't fear those dead mutts. As I suspected, when we reached the source of the smoke, the person setting them had cleared out and another smoke column could be seen above the treetops to the north. We had no choice but to continue to follow the trail, hoping that whoever was setting them would make a wrong step in their plan. I suddenly remembered the nets that I had received in my pack.

"Wait, Cato," I demanded. "Whoever is setting these fires up must be moving around a lot to prevent us from finding them. I think we should set up some of these nets around the area to see if we can snare them. We probably won't find them just following their dummy trails."

Nodding his agreement, Cato took several of the nets and I handed Clove a few. We each went off in separate directions, agreeing to meet back at our original location in 30 minutes, yelling if we needed help. I had not gone more than a few steps into the forest before I heard a cannon shot. Looking back toward the area that the group had split, I was fairly confident that it wasn't Clove or Cato and continued on my task.

I set my nets directly between the smoke and our base camp, using the tallest saplings I could find to prevent the dead mutts from finding the trapped tribute before we could get to them. I was just setting the last of the traps when the ground shook under me, a loud boom rattling the air around me coming from the direction of our plains. I froze, waiting to see if any dead mutts would show up, but the forest was silent; even the birds had stopped their chirps.

I quickly sprinted back to camp, knowing that Clove and Cato would abandon setting their own traps to make sure that our supplies were safe. Bursting out of the forest, I first noted the tents on fire and that I almost tripped over a spearhead as I made my way carefully toward the exploded mess of what used to be valuable survival gear. Cato quickly followed, yelling furiously and making a general ruckus.

"Where is that District 3 runt?" he roared. I looked around for him; I had forgotten he was supposed to guard our stuff to prevent this from happening. I then noticed a black head of hair slowly making its way through the tall grass. I strode up quickly behind it, and grabbed a handful of thick, curly locks, dragging up the boy with it. I brought him back to the smolder wreckage with me squealing, and threw him on the ground.

Cato stormed up the District 3 boy and killed him quickly with a quick jerk of his arms around the boy's neck. Clove, who I hadn't noticed before, quickly ran up to Cato, trying to calm him down before he ended up hurting one of us in his anger. I noted the thick, bulging veins on his neck, widened eyes, and spit flying out of his mouth as I slowly approached him.

"Look Cato," I reasoned. "Whoever it was that set off those traps is probably splattered everywhere with our stuff. Let's just get out of here before the dead mutts come here. You know they're attracted to noise."

As if to punctuate my point, the boy that Cato killed groaned, pushing himself from the ground. His neck was still twisted to one side, his face eerily facing away from the direction his body was moving. He shuffled slowly toward us, eyes grey but pointed directly toward the three of us. We quickly ran away from that area. I suggested that we head back for the farmhouse. The people occupying it probably were either dead or distracted by now, and we might be able to sneak past the fence and spend the night there. I didn't know if the mutts were smart enough to climb fences, but it might provide some barrier.

We slowly crept to the wooden fence, staying low and, in the growing darkness of dusk, crept under the rails. We found a small grove of trees that were completely clear of dead mutts, and settled down there to watch the dead count. Two faces showed up that night: the boy from District 3 that Cato had killed and the boy from District 10.

"Did the boy from 10 do it then?" I asked, confused.

"No," Clove stated, shaking her head slowly. "I killed him while I was out scouting places to set up my nets. I was surprised to find him still alive with that gimpy leg, but I finished him off pretty quickly. It looks like whoever set off those mines is still alive. It has to be that Fire girl; nobody else would be that daring or that stupid."

Cato punched the ground, swearing. She laid a soothing hand on his tense arm, and whispered that we would get her tomorrow.

"You two sleep," Cato growled. "I'll keep watch."

"Cato," Clove said hesitantly.

"Go to sleep, Clove," Cato bit out. "I won't tell you again."

Clove and I shared a glance as Cato stalked away toward the edge of the tree line, but we laid down our heads regardless. It seems like the big guy had finally lost it.

When I opened my eyes again, it was already dawn. Cato was still pacing the edge of the forest, wearing down a small path in the dirt. When he heard me stir, he went over to Clove and shook her.

"We're going to split up," he said, a crazed look in his eyes. "We'll cover more ground, and the forest is small enough that we can still hear well enough if one of us gets in trouble."

Not willing to go against him when he looked like the wrong facial expression would cause him to throw me through the nearest tree, Clove and I readily agreed. We had a small amount of food, which we ate about half of before feeling full, and evenly distributed the rest to take with us. We set off quickly toward the first smoke signal, still prominent against the sky. He waved Clove toward the second smoke column and waved me the opposite direction. Not bothering to see where he was going, I immediately set off in the direction of my traps. The birds around me chirped a 4 note song and accompanied me to my first net, which had managed to capture 2 dead mutts. Leaving them up there, I continued to my next one, which was still untriggered.

As I made my way toward my last trap, I heard shuffling and the voice of a girl struggling. Smiling, I knew I had her. I was surprised, however, to find the little black girl in my net. The second she saw me, she started calling for the Girl on Fire though. I knew that I couldn't have Katniss know that we were hunting for her, so I readied a spear for the trapped girl. As I let go of it, I saw her out of the corner of my eye. Not even looking to see if my spear connected to the little girl, I reached for another spear to throw at her when she released the arrow. It pierced my neck and pain overwhelmed me. I felt blood flood my mouth when I pulled the arrow out of my throat. Strength quickly leaving me, and black clouding my vision, I collapsed on the ground. A thirst came over me then, and I knew that blood was what I needed. Blood. There was a fresh source of it nearby, I could smell it. I heard a noise, and I pushed off the ground and moved toward it. She looked delicious and I let out a hungry groan.

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**Author's Note:** And there goes Marvel. I tried to generally follow the timeline of THG but made some changes that I needed to. Reviews are appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4: Clove

Chapter 3: Clove

Frozen shock. I quickly shook myself and analyzed my surroundings. I was directly in front of the mouth of the Cornucopia; several clumps of shambling death surrounding it, some pounding on the glass that encased each tribute. I put my hand on mine, needing to know the minute it disappeared. It seemed to be our only protection against the rotting creatures before we could leave our platforms.

The instant the gong sounded, the glass melted away, and I lunged for a belt of knives near the edge of my platform with a smirk. It was almost as if someone had placed it there explicitly for me. I buckled it in place and drew out a long, curved blade. I noticed off to my right side the District 9 male fighting over a backpack with the Girl on Fire. Sneering, I flung the knife at the back of the male to get him out of my shot for the District 12 girl. When my second knife only lodged in the pack, I was furious, and ready to chase her when the stench of rotting flesh filled my nose. One of the dead mutts had wandered into my path, and I made a quick swipe of my sword across its neck. Something black oozed out of the cut, but it did not hesitate or waver in its progress toward me.

I felt mild panic overtake me as I stared, frozen, at the single eyeball it had left, swinging out of its socket by a tendon as if to hypnotize me. Its cold hands had found a grip on my shoulders before I was suddenly splashed in black liquid. It flew into my open mouth, bitter and rancid. Cato's grinning face appeared through the split in the dead mutt's head. It collapsed at my feet, jaw still moving sporadically as if still determined to take a bite out of my shoes.

"What would you do without me?" he sighed dramatically as I spit out the congealed blood. "Aim for their brains if you can."

I drew a handful of smaller knives and quickly took out several of the rotted beings closest to me.

"What are they?" I shouted to Cato.

"Who the hell knows or cares?" he answered. "Just kill them like you would a normal tribute, except, you know, through their heads."

Glimmer suddenly turning into one of them after receiving a small bite on her ankle spooked me, but provided us with a valuable lesson to stay as far away from the dead things as possible. Our original plan at training had been to stay at the Cornucopia and keep our supplies concentrated, but with the dead mutts wandering around everywhere, that would be impossible. When Cato led us toward the relative safety of an open field, I was relieved. We'd be able to see anything coming for miles around. I convinced Cato to let the District 3 boy live, not looking forward to one of us having to babysit the supplies while we could be out hunting. The sooner I got away from those rotting corpses the better.

Having Lover Boy hang around with us was unexpected, but he did save Marvel from having his face eaten off by Glimmer. I was not surprised, however, when he did manage to betray us by helping his district partner escape. Waking up to a zombie several inches from my face, sticky drool landing on my neck, had not been pleasant, and I swiftly pushed a blade through its skull. It immediately collapsed on top of me, heavy and stinking of decay and rot, showering me again with black ooze. Yelling for Cato, he had to pry the thing off of me and hold onto my shoulders while I took a couple of breaths. I had planned on helping him with the zombie hoard that descended on us, but he pushed me back toward the field, telling me he'd catch up. I took down about 5 of them before I was completely out of knives and then I ran. True to his word, Cato found me about 10 minutes later slumped against a tree trunk and we were reunited with Marvel and the District 3 boy at our base.

When Cato started ranting about the District 12 girl, I felt the anger in me well up and I punched his arm until he quieted, glaring daggers down at me.

"Do you want to bring the entire hoard here?" I hissed. "There are only 4 of us left, and I'm completely out of knives."

He pulled out the five I had flung at the corpses on my way out of the forest and angrily thrust them at me.

"Maybe work up the courage to pull them out of your targets next time," he growled. "They do stay dead."

Frustrated and furious, I retrieved the knives and sank down to the ground. The boy from 3 came up to me, silently handing me a small pack of beef jerky and pointing to the tent he had set up for me. I crawled into it, not even bothering to ask about watch, and sulked. Sighing, I realized that I _had_ been rather cowardly lately. I just could not help myself around the mutts; they gave me the creeps unlike anything I'd ever encountered before.

I emerged from the tent and gathered up the water bottles, making my way toward a groundwater well I had passed earlier. As I lifted the lid, a guttural groan echoed out of the dark hole. Falling backward with a yelp, I scooted away from it as fast as I could. Taking a few deep breaths, I remembered the scorn Cato had directed toward me and approached the well cautiously. I peered in slowly, cautiously turning on my flashlight to shine into its depths. A bloated, rotting corpse stared back at me, hands reaching upward and grasping, rotten teeth bared and snapping. I picked up a boulder sitting nearby, aiming carefully, and dropped it on the head of the mutt. A thud resonated out of the well but the unnatural moaning continued. I seemed to have only made it angrier.

A rustling of bushes and harsh whispers drew me around, and before I knew it, a knife had lodged inches away from Cato's head into a tree branch. Glaring at me, and pulling the knife free, he tossed it back, thankfully into the ground in front of me and not at my head.

"What are you doing out here?" he hissed. "You've been gone for almost half an hour."

Pointing wordlessly down the well, he peered in, disgust shining plainly on his face.

"Leave it there," he muttered. "That water is not safe to drink anymore. The most we can do with it is to give it to another tribute to try to poison them. Even that's not worth it at this point. Let's go find another well. If there's one, there has to be others."

We set off together, Cato with his sword drawn as I poked at the ground with a stick, trying to find the characteristic thud of the lid of another well. When I finally found one, I hesitantly lifted the lid but this one was empty of mutts. The water drawn from it tasted of minerals and dirt, but it had none of the stench of decay that the previous well possessed.

"Don't tell Marvel or that District 3 boy about the mutt well," Cato rumbled as we made our way back to camp. "It might be useful if we need a quick way to dispose of either of them in the future."

Looking up at the cruel grin on his face, I suppressed a shudder and renewed my vow to keep Cato within my sight at all times. I knew of his cruel streak and had heard rumors at the training center in District 2 of what he did to those who displeased him. I fingered the knives in my belt, smirking. Even Cato couldn't recover from a blade piercing his skull.

When we saw the smoke signals in the forest, Marvel and I hesitantly followed him into the forest and I even more hesitantly separated from the group. When the ground shook with the force of the explosion, I immediately began carefully making my way back to camp. I met two dead mutts on my way, slowly shuffling their way toward the source of the noise. Creeping up behind them, I threw two knives into their skulls. Running to retrieve them, I was tripped by one of them grabbing at my ankle, the blade having hit its head at an angle that missed the brain. I tore the knife out of the unmoving mutt's head and buried it into the forehead of the mutt that was crawling its way toward me, mouth snarling.

Breathing heavily, I laid on my back on the ground, surrounded by the dead. Gritting my teeth against the nausea, I pushed onto my feet and sprinted toward the base. Hearing a groan coming from behind me, I twisted my head to see if there was one behind me when I smacked into something warm and fleshy. It gasped and I immediately rolled to my right, two knives in each hand. I recognized the boy from District 10 and, realizing I didn't have time to play with him, simply ran while he was still frozen in fear and slashed his throat.

Cato snapped that boy's neck just as I reached camp and I took in the wreckage left of our supplies. Everything had been disintegrated and there was a 9 foot hole in the perimeter where the charges had been buried. When I saw Cato's wild expression, I was drawn back to our training at the academy, where one of the mentors had pushed him too far. Cato had thrown himself into such a fit, he had smashed in the face of that mentor and 4 others sported broken bones before they finally managed to knock him out with a sedative. Since we didn't have a sedative handy, I knew it was imperative that we stopped him before he could get into a full rage.

Luckily, Marvel backed me up and the dead District 3 mutt that rose from the ground convinced Cato that we had more important things on our hands than his tantrum. Grabbing onto his arm, I directed Cato away from the wreckage of our camp and we headed back toward the farmhouse, and settled in to watch the dead announcement. When Cato realized that the culprit was still alive, a feral look came into his eyes again, although he kept himself calm.

We split up the next morning to hunt the Girl on Fire, and I headed toward the direction of the second smoke column. Not finding any clues, and hearing the groans of multiple mutts being carried in the wind, I headed back toward the fenced area we stopped last night. I waited there for Cato and Marvel to return, expecting no results of our search. The girl had proved far more resourceful than I had ever thought possible. I pulled out my knives and started absently digging a hole in the ground, startled by the cannon shot that rang out through the arena several minutes later. I shot to my feet and was surveying my surroundings when a second shot rang out. Cato emerged a few minutes later through the trees, and I sighed in relief. He nodded at me and settled down next to me, handing me his filled water bottle.

We waited until nightfall for Marvel to return, and my stomach sank when his face was projected in the sky during the announcement along with the little girl from 11. Body tense next to me, Cato pulled out the remainder of the food from his pack, asking me what I had left. Showing him the beef jerky and dried fruit I had left, we realized that we would need to find a food source by the following day or we might starve.

"Get some sleep, Cato," I suggested. "We'll set out in the morning to find somewhere we can get some food. I noticed some animal tracks in the woods, so maybe we can hunt something."

Nodding, he started to lay down, when I stopped him. Pointing upward, I told him we'd be safer in the trees from the dead mutts. Their basic motor skills seemed severely impaired, so even if we could get above their heads in the trees we would be more secure.

He rose and grabbed a hold of the thickest braches in the large tree above us, heaving himself up. He reached down a hand and pulled me up next to him. We continued like this until we were about 10 feet in the air, and I leaned on the trunk straddling a thick branch. His snores filled the air, and I peered out through the leaves at the distant farmhouse, a dim light shining through one of the windows. Cato woke several hours later, saying that he felt rested and that he would keep watch. I hesitantly fell asleep, only to be awoken several hours later when I hit the ground to the sound of Cato's roaring laughter.

He quickly climbed down the tree, dropping the last several feet, and, still chortling, checked on me. He took each of my limbs, bending and prodding them to make sure nothing was broken. I had, thankfully, landed on a rather soft patch of earth, and was just bruised and winded. Groaning as I pushed myself into a sitting position, I drank from the water bottle Cato handed to me and tried to stretch the soreness away.

"Come on big baby," he snorted. "Might as well try to find some breakfast now that we're both awake."

Setting off in a circle around the farmhouse, we realized there was nothing. We stumbled on a few more wells that we used to refill our water, but there was no garden, chicken coop, or even a barn. What kind of farm was this?

The anthem brought our attention to the sky, and the announcement of a feast at noon, containing packages for each of us, gave Cato and me a new spring to our step. Grinning, we quickly started to strategize. There were only six of us left at that point: the two of us, the large brute from District 11, the red-head from District 5, Katniss, and Peeta. We immediately made our way back to the Cornucopia, where we encountered a swarm of dead mutts surrounding it. It seemed the Gamemakers intended on making this difficult for us.

"I'll clear a path for you," Cato whispered urgently. "Follow closely and keep my back clear. When we break through the line of mutts, you go after the packs and I'll keep the dead off of you. Maybe I'll even manage to kill a few tributes as well," he added with a grin.

When the table rose out of the ground, 5 packs of various sizes neatly lined up, I immediately zoomed in on the two packs with 2 sewn onto them.

"Go!" I shot at Cato, running after him when he took off. Breaking through the barrier of mutts, I was delighted to see Katniss just reaching the table. Drawing a knife, I flung it at her, disappointed when it only caught her above the eye. She froze, wiping at the blood flowing out of the cut, and eyed the mutts. I also stared at them apprehensively, knowing that if they charged, neither one of us would survive. Surprisingly, they made no move toward either of us, and seemed to be held back in a circle about 100 feet in all directions.

Sneering, I started taunting her, asking what was in the tiny pack that she clutched in her hand.

"Too bad that Marvel got to your accomplice from 11 before I could," I scoffed, tackling her to the ground and holding a knife at her throat. "I've always been good with little girls. I think I'll actually leave you alive. Eventually the barrier holding back the mutts will drop, and then they'll come to eat you. I don't think I've ever seen one that wasn't hungry."

As I prepared to slice her open, I felt myself roughly lifted off of her and held in the air. Startled, I cried out to Cato, thinking that he had betrayed me for some reason.

"What are you doing you idiot," I yelled. I was suddenly turned and found myself face to face with the dark, menacing face of Thresh.

"What did you say about Rue?" he demanded, shaking me roughly.

"Nothing! I did nothing to her!" I shrieked. "Cato! Help me!"

I heard his answering call, but he was going to be too late. I tried to draw a knife, but the large tribute slammed me against the ground, winding me for the second time that day and picked up a rock. My eyes widened in fear as I realized what he planned, and I called Cato's name one last time before it descended on my temple.

The first blow stunned me but the second knocked me out. When I came to, I could smell blood, but it was not fresh. I stumbled to my feet, detecting a solid wall of flesh near me. Screams surrounded me quickly as well as the sound of running feet. I slowly took off after the loudest, bumping against other objects that welcomed me into their midst with guttural groans.

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**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews I've gotten so far! I loved the scene in Walking Dead with the bloated zombie stuck in the well, but never really understood why they tried so hard to get it out. :/ Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a note!


	5. Chapter 5: Cato

Chapter 5: Cato

Indignant disgust. This is what the Gamemakers put me up against this year? I had expected mutts in the arena, but ones that had their flesh falling from their bones and were tripping over their own feet? I pounded my fist against the glass, outraged; I would simply have to take out my frustrations on my fellow tributes. Speaking of which, one several platforms away from me was being surrounded by the falling apart mutts, apparently drawn to her screams. They were all a pathetic bunch, and I especially couldn't wait to get my hands on the Girl on Fire. Smirking, I pictured the ways that I could dim her flames before I finally extinguished it.

Hearing the gong, I immediately sprinted for a sword sticking out of the ground nearby, swiping the head from the nearest mutt. I shoved my sword through the back of fellow tribute who was running toward a backpack. When he fell, the screaming kid was immediately swarmed by the stinking mutts. I arrived at the Cornucopia and started to clear it of anything moving. I heard Glimmer's shouts to aim for the brains and decided to take her advice when I noticed that the heads I removed were still snapping.

I had reservations about letting Lover Boy join our group, but figured that he could be the one that finally led us to his district partner. It would also help to have an extra pair of eyes, especially since the mutts seemed to be able to turn us into one of them with a simple bite. When we had finally found her, trapped in a tree, I had even been prepared to allow him to have a chance to help kill her when we finally figured out how to get her down; I had never been good at climbing trees.

I was awoken that night by something dripping onto my face. Hearing a guttural moan relatively nearby, I jumped up, grabbing my sword. I managed to shove it through the face of a mutt that was less than a foot away from me as the rest of the camp awoke. Pulling my sword free, covered in black blood, I started to slice away at the approaching hoard. When I noticed Clove freeze, I immediately cut down her assailant, annoyed at the extra burden. Realizing that she was useless, I ordered her to run. I noticed the District 4 girl, who should have been keeping watch, trying to escape by climbing a tree; I dragged her back down by her ankle. Before she could recover from her fall, I grabbed her hair and pushed her, shrieking, into the hoard of mutts.

Feeling intense satisfaction at her screams and the amount of flesh being stripped from bone, I quickly gathered Clove's abandoned knives before finding Peeta helping the fire girl down from the tree. Eyes narrowed, I ran for him, ramming my shoulder into his back and barely grazing his calf with a knife to draw blood. I tossed him into his lover and, noticing the attention they were getting from the hoard who was finishing with the bloody skeleton of the District 4 girl, ran for the field. I was furious with myself for allowing someone like the 12 boy from joining the alliance in the first place and the trick that the 12 girl managed to pull.

When the Girl on Fire managed to trick us yet again, creating a dummy smoke trail and then blowing up our supplies, I was even more determined to see that her death was slow and painful. Maybe I would slowly lower her into that well with the trapped mutt. I fell asleep to that mental image several times over the next few days, smiling as I imagined her screams as her legs were eaten clean before I lowered her stomach within its reach. I had to make sure that it was just the two of us at the end, so I could take my time without worrying about interference.

The destruction of our supplies unleashed the fire in me; the fire that had led to several concussions and an opponent in a permanent coma at the academy. The fire that made my mother afraid of me, and my father to shy away from me. Clove had experience with it though, and knew how to focus me again on our task. I regretted only killing the boy so quickly. I could have had a lot more fun with him had I been in a normal frame of mind.

At the feast, I realized that the dead mutts were being held back from the Cornucopia with some sort of force field that only repelled their kind. I slashed my way through their line to get Clove closer to the tables, and then danced just inside the force field to take out as many of them as I could. When I heard Clove scream, I quickly turned my head and immediately felt a hand grasp my ankle, dragging me toward the hoard with alarming strength. Rolling away from them and further into the force field, I found Clove stumbling toward me.

I held out my arms and she fell into them, head lowered. I shook her, asking if she was hurt, while scanning the area. Noting that Thresh was escaping with my pack, my shaking turned more violent, Clove's head jerking back. I looked down and finally met her eyes, covered by a milky film, and heard her throaty rasp. Hands grasping at my upper arms, she attempted to pull my body closer to her snapping mouth. I pushed her back, keeping one hand firmly on her shoulder, drew one of her knives still held at her waist, and quickly thrust it under her chin through the top of her head. I let her fall to the ground and gave her motionless body one last regretful glance before I ran after Thresh. She had been a good partner and had generally held her own well.

I followed his trail, which led, surprisingly, back toward the farmhouse. It appeared that he was the one who occupied the house and shot at us the first day. I watched him enter the house through the branches at the edge of the woods, cautious of any rustling that might turn into a dead mutt hoard. I slipped through the fence when night fell without any gunshots threatening me. I had to get my pack, and kill the son of a bitch who had bashed in Clove's skull enough to kill her, but not enough to prevent her from coming back. Staring at the fence, a plan formed in my head.

Quietly, I moved toward the front of the house and waited for the light in the window to extinguish. I slowly dismantled a section of the wooden fence, gently setting down logs off to the side. The moon was bright in the sky and helped illuminate my task. When a 20 foot section of fence was gone, I carefully pricked my middle finger, smearing a small amount of blood onto either side of the gap and on the ground. I wanted to attract a few nearby stragglers, but not bring down an entire hoard on my head. I stuck my finger in my mouth to stop the bleeding and crept to the rear of the property, maintaining line of sight with the fence gap I had created.

The hours passed slowly, with no sign of any mutts coming. I grew impatient, and contemplated finding a forest animal to bleed when I heard the telltale groans coming from directly behind me. A mutt shuffled slowly toward me, arms outstretched and jaw snapping. It gently bumped the fence and strained against the wood beams, struck in its single minded purpose of reaching me. I quickly glanced at the windows of the farmhouse, afraid that the snarls would awaken Thresh. When no movement or lights appeared, I drew the sword from my belt and quickly silenced the mutt with a thrust through its left eye. It was in the wrong place and even if I found a way to lure it through the fence, it would go for me instead of Thresh.

When morning came with no mutts, I began to wonder if the Gamemakers had removed them from the anrea. I decided that I had waited long enough, and snuck back to the gap in the fence. Removing the firearm I had gotten from my pack, I fired a single shot into the air, trusting that Thresh would instinctively duck before going to a window to see who had fired. I used that brief time to quickly run to the house and duck underneath one of the windows. Leaning my back against the house, I quickly caught my breath, peering up at the sky. Curiously, it was rippling slightly and, at certain points, emitting the odd spark.

The slam of a door brought my attention back to the house, and I realized that Thresh had probably come out of the house to investigate. This would be my chance to overpower him. I crept up toward the front door, where I had heard the noise, and, peeking carefully around the corner of the house, saw him standing on the porch, a shotgun in his hand. His eyes widened before he bolted back into the house, locking the door behind him. Looking for what had caught his attention, I inhaled sharply when I saw the dozens of dead things that had been attracted by my shot. They were coming from all directions and the air quickly filled with the smell of decay and the sound of their groans. The ones that met the fence struggled against it, and eventually they became backed up. As I watched mesmerized, the fence gave way under their sheer weight and the mutts stumbled forward. The ones that fell were trampled under the unsteady feet of their fellow mutts, snarling into the dirt.

The time for subtlety gone, I smashed in a window with my sword hilt and leapt into the house. I was immediately greeted by a shotgun blast that hit the window sill above my head, spraying my face with wooden splinters. I rolled behind a couch, pulling out my gun from my waistband. Another blast tore through the back of the couch and pellets lodged in the wall to my left, followed by another directly to my right. Smiling, I realized that he had never handled a gun before. I shot out from behind the couch and fired at Thresh, smirking when blood splashed in the air. He ducked out into the hallway, and I calmly followed.

"Thresh!" I called out, hearing him struggle down the hall. "Just give me my pack and I'll leave, that's all I want. Just the pack."

I slowly crept down the hallway, following the blood trail. I seemed to have injured him pretty badly, but not yet fatally. The trail ended at a door, which had a bloody handprint on the knob.

"Come on out Thresh," I teased. "I'll be quick about it. You probably won't feel a thing."

I jumped to my right when I heard the shotgun pumped and the shot blew through the door. I stuck my gun through the hole and fired twice. Quiet settled around me, and I cautiously stuck out my hand to open the door. A light groan came from the room, and I charged in to find that Thresh had been hit by both of my wild bullets directly in his chest.

"I told you," I taunted. "All I wanted was the packs. Now you're going to die slowly for it and be my distraction while I escape."

I considered slitting his throat to allow for maximum blood release, but decided I wanted him alive for the entire experience. I strode through the house and located my and Clove's pack in an upstairs bedroom. It contained full body armor that seemed rigid enough to protect against bites and maybe even the Fire Girl's arrows.

I heard high-pitched screams as I pulled the armor on and quickly scrambled to the window. A redheaded girl, the tribute from District 5, had managed to pull open the doors of the barn next to the house. Scores of mutts shuffled out of it and quickly overwhelmed her; the barn mutts were quickly joined by the forest mutts to devour her. A cannon boom quickly shook the room, dust raining down from the ceiling. I left the window and took all the food from the backpacks and quickly stuffed them into mine. Walking down to the kitchen, I checked the refrigerator, which was surprisingly well stocked. Thresh had even packed away some leftovers; the bastard had been feasting while I had to make do with beef jerky and crackers. I shoved all the food I could fit into my bag and went back to Thresh.

He was still alive, and even made a motion toward the shotgun that was out of his reach.

"Don't worry kid," I said, slinging the pack securely onto my back. "It'll be all over for you soon. The mutts might eat you slowly, now that I think about it. They already got the District 5 girl to munch on outside."

I grabbed a few towels from the bathroom across the hall and mopped up some of his blood. I then dragged it down the hallway, opened the front door, and threw out the rags at the mutts. I made sure that they were shambling toward me before I ran out the back door and back into the forest. It wasn't until I was about 100 yards away from the farmhouse when I realized I was still being trailed by the mutts. They were much faster than I had ever seen them before, and I realized that the Gamemakers must have released a new strain of them.

I gripped the sword in my hand and prepared to fight them off when I realized that I would be quickly overwhelmed if I stopped. Even if my body armor could stop their teeth, my head and hands were still exposed, and they could simply smother me with numbers. Instead, I changed course, running at full speed toward the Cornucopia, which seemed to have a barrier against the monsters. I saw the District 12 tributes ahead of me and would have laughed at the fear in their eyes if I hadn't been chased by death itself. I tore past them and immediately stopped next to the Cornucopia. When I saw that the barrier had been lifted and that the mutts were closing in just as quickly, I immediately started to climb.

I collapsed when I reached the top, chest heaving and sweating profusely from the run and the trapped heat from the body armor; I flung the backpack away from me, it would be all over soon anyways. I raised my head weakly when I heard scuffling, but it was only the pair of lovers helping each other up.

"Can they climb it?" I gasped.

"I don't think so," Peeta responded cautiously, inching closer to me. "Are you alright?"

Of course he would ask; he was a decent person. Decent people were so easy to manipulate.

"I'm just so tired," I moaned, laying back down on the hot metal. "They chased me from the farmhouse. I've never seen them move so fast before."

I could see Peeta begin to relax, and used that opportunity to grab him into a headlock. I forced my weight down on him to stop him from struggling, his gurgled cries alerting his girlfriend to his situation. She quickly drew an arrow which made me laugh breathlessly.

"Shoot me," I challenged. "It won't do you any good and it probably will kill your lover here."

I saw her hesitate, and was readying my grip to snap Peeta's neck when the sky above us simply shattered, showering all of us with sparks and hot metal bits. I instinctively thrust Peeta away from me and my feet slipped off the Cornucopia. I fell onto my back on the ground and immediately was set upon by dead mutts, who tore at my feet, my legs, my arms; their nails scraped long gouges on my face. I bit back a scream, wanting to die with dignity. I felt a fever overtake me and my head felt light. I no longer felt the pain from having my fingers bitten to the bone, having my nose chomped off. I no longer saw the ugly hoard above me, but instead felt only a strong hunger. The scent of blood filled my nose and I picked myself off the ground, banging on the side of a bright barrier, hoping to dislodge the source of the warm blood above me.

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**Author's Note: **I've decided to just skip ahead to Rue next. You can imagine that the unmentioned tributes died gruesomely and joined the zombie herd. Thanks for reading and reviews are very appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6: Rue

Chapter 6: Rue

Extreme terror. I had seen one dead person before in my life- a girl who was picking apples next to me had slipped out of her harness and fell 20 feet onto the ground. Her wide, empty eyes stared up at me as I froze in my tree, unable to tear my eyes from the widening pool of blood under her head and the odd angles her arms and legs were splayed in. These dead were nothing like that. The one closest to me was stumbling toward me like the foreman at home when he had too much to drink. While the foreman was funny when he was like that, the thing slowly coming toward me had nothing amusing about it. Its skin was an ashy grey color and patches of flesh were missing on its face and hands. Its clothing was ripped and stained with what I suspected was blood.

The instant the gong rang, I ran behind me into the forest, stopping long enough to scoop up a small backpack on my way. I saw a mutt directly in front of me, mouth gaping and making an eerie groaning sound while shuffling toward me, arms outstretched. Shaking and breathing rapidly, I scaled the nearest tree, hanging onto the upper branches and hoping that they weren't coordinated or agile enough to climb. I shed tears of joy when it stopped at the base of the tree, still snarling and reaching up at me, but unable to grasp the nearest branches to pull itself up.

For now, I was safe against the mutts, but I still had to worry about my fellow tributes. I had secretly watched each of them train; although, even if I hadn't, I knew that I stood no chance against any of them in a fight. My best chance of survival was to stay in the trees and to find a way to obtain water. Breathing slowly to calm myself, I rifled through the pack I managed to grab. Inside were a few scraps of meat, a pair of thick socks, a full canteen of water, and, surprisingly, a slingshot with a small sack of metal balls. I guessed that the meat could last me a week if I could find some berries or vegetables to supplement them with. The water, however, would only last me a couple of days at most. I remembered the advice my family gave me before I left:

"_Get up as high as you can. There will be nobody that can climb as well as you. Find water, that'll be the thing that can kill you the fastest. We're all used to being hungry, and you know as well as anyone in the country the plants that are safe to eat. Get to a stream that's surrounded by trees and, hopefully, you'll be able to outlast the other tributes."_

I looked around me: the trees were relatively close set enough that I would be able to leap between branches; the area was thick with dead mutts such that they were bumping into each other and their smell wafted up at me, making me gag. I could see many shrubs that could potentially have edible berries and roots. So there were edible plants that the Gamemakers planted in the arena. Spotting a strong branch on a nearby tree, I repacked my supplies and jumped, landing squarely. Continuing this way for some time, I managed to come across a small stream. Smiling, I slowly crept down the tree after taking a careful look around. I found several edible plants. I set about picking them and cleaning them in the water before putting them into my pack.

So consumed in my task that I didn't hear the footsteps or the groans until it splashed water on me. I jumped up, gasping, when water hit my face. I was astonished to see a zombie wading its way across the stream toward me, flailing its arms in an attempt to stay upright in the water. I was frozen, crouched on the ground at its banks, as it made its way toward me when, suddenly, it stopped. It was still snapping at and reaching for me, but for some reason, it couldn't move its lower body. Not questioning my luck, I grabbed the leaves that I had dropped, stuffing them into my bag, and scampered up a tree. From high up, I could see the amount of mud it was churning up, and realized that it probably got stuck in something similar to quicksand.

I felt my chest tighten and my breath quicken. I held my breath, however, knowing that I couldn't cry. I couldn't make myself look weak in front of potential sponsors; I couldn't make my grandmother panic for me more than she already was. Wiping away the few stray tears that had escaped my eyes, I put a few of the leaves I gathered into my mouth, chewing slowly and reveling in the familiar bitterness. I took a small sip of water, and settled down for the night. It was barely past 3 by the sun, but I was exhausted and scared. I looked around the tree I was perched in and spied a thick branch a little ways above me that looked like I could rest my entire body along it. Settling myself onto it, I leaned against the trunk and absentmindedly watched the stuck mutt below.

I was mystified when I saw another tribute cautiously approach the stream, looking around nervously. He had shown no observable skills during training and received a low score from the Gamemakers. I watched curiously as he backed toward the stream, his arms at the ready facing the forest, sure that his biggest threat came from the trees. He didn't even bother to look behind him, where the trapped mutt waited for him. It grabbed the boy as soon as he was within arm's reach and, heedless of his screams and pleas, tore into his throat, staining the water a muddy red. Hands clamped tightly against my mouth to stifle my screams, I watched, frozen, as the boy's struggles ceased. The mutt tore off an arm and released the rest of him, blood running down his face from the limb. The tribute floated, facedown, for a bit, drifting lazily in the slow moving waters.

I was astounded to see him twitch a few minutes later and stand shortly afterward. He didn't seem bothered by his missing arm and his eyes looked cloudy and empty. He stumbled, as the mutts did, onto the opposite shore and disappeared into the trees. I had never been more frightened since I entered the arena as I was by his sudden animation. I had watched him die, and then had watched him get back up as if he wasn't missing half of his neck. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to drown out his image; I had never felt more alone. Knowing that I could no longer stay in the area, I moved further along upstream, keeping to the treetops.

Several days passed uneventfully; I spent my days in the trees, dropping down in the early morning to replenish my water and plant supply, and my nights huddled against the trunk, socks over my hands for warmth against the chilly night air. I explored the forest the first day, even coming to its edge. I spied a large field on which tents had been erected. I suspected that this was where the Careers were camped, and it was only guarded by one small boy. As I watched, he dug small holes around the tents and carefully placed a cylindrical device inside before covering it with dirt. Not being able to use this information, and too scared to come out from the trees, I retreated to my part of the stream and kept to it after that.

I saw smoke one day, black in the distance, and all of a sudden, the tribute from District 12 ran past my tree, followed closely by a pack of Careers. I followed her progress quietly, making my way across the treetops. She was limping and I was amazed to see how quickly she could climb a tree. I almost fell out of my tree when I realized that her district mate was with the Careers. I remembered his heartfelt confession of love during his interview and wondered what happened to make him change his mind. She had been pleasant during training and her interviews, and the few times our eyes had met had given me some reassurance that not everyone would kill me. I was too scared to approach her with an offer of an alliance as well as being certain of rejection. I had seen plenty of girls go into the arena at my size and age, and none of them had ever come out alive. But now that she was hurt, maybe I could win her over if I could help heal her.

When night fell and the Careers slept, I crept onto Katniss' tree, pleading with my eyes for her to stay quiet when she roughly turned to me, knife drawn, when she felt me land on her branch. She relaxed when she saw me, however, and she gave me a gentle smile.

"So you're still alive and well," she whispered admiringly. "I guess I shouldn't really be surprised after your score from the Gamemakers."

Smiling shyly, I withdrew from my bag a handful of leaves, which I spread on her burned leg. Hissing at the pain, she thanked me.

"Do you have any food?" I asked quietly.

When she shook her head, I took out one of the few strips of beef I had left and pressed it into her hand. While she ate, a small clink came from above us and I retrieved a small canister attached to a silver parachute. Smelling it, I knew it was medication sent by sponsors for Katniss' burns.

"How do we get out of this, Rue?" she asked me sadly. I was surprised that she knew my name.

"Can you jump?" I asked, rubbing ointment on her wounds. "I can get from tree to tree just from jumping on branches."

Laughing lightly, she replied, "I doubt it. Even if I had two good legs, I'm too heavy for that."

A lingering groan came out of the darkness of the forest, making both of us turn toward it apprehensively. I looked down at the slumbering tributes below, and noticed the girl that they set to keep watch had fallen asleep as well.

"They're attracted to the smell of blood," I whispered fearfully. "They might be coming because of your burns."

She suddenly grasped my shoulders, making me gasp and tense.

"That's it, Rue!" she exclaimed. "We'll bring the hoard of mutts down on them, and hopefully I'll be able to escape in the confusion. You go through the trees. Follow the stream upriver, out of the way of the mutts, and I'll find you. I promise, I'll find you."

Staring at her, fearful, I nodded. As I carefully made my way further from her, I heard shouting and a huge commotion behind me. Not daring to look back, I found a quiet grove and perched anxiously. Dawn broke before I heard light footsteps approaching. I jumped down when I saw Katniss and ran to her when I noticed that she was covered in blood.

"Are you hurt?" I demanded, pulling her face down to me.

"No, the blood's not mine," she panted, slumping against a tree, dropping to the ground a set of silver bow and arrows.

I gave her some water and she drank deeply. I examined her while she rested, reapplying some of the Capitol medicine on her rapidly healing burns and wrapping the hand that she had cut open.

"Did it work?" I asked eagerly. "Are the Careers dead?"

"No," she replied. "Most ran away, the girl from 4 is dead though. Peeta-"

She broke off, and looked back toward the path she had taken.

"What happened to him?" I questioned curiously. "I saw that he was with the Careers."

"He was," she answered. "I think he helped me escape. I slipped as I was climbing down the tree, and he caught me. I thought that he was going to kill me so I pushed him away directly into Cato. The last thing I saw was Cato cutting his leg with a knife before I ran out of there. I wanted to go back for him, but…"

Shaking herself, she pulled out of her own pack two small grooslings, saying that she had shot them on the way here. I helped her pluck them and we set up a small fire for them to roast. I nibbled on mine slowly, knowing that I had to make the food last as long as possible.

"Here," Katniss muttered, shoving one of her bird's legs at me.

"It's ok," I said. "I'm not so hungry anymore."

"Eat," she demanded. "The forest is full of game. I'll hunt more for us tomorrow. We might as well eat our fill while we still can."

When we settled down at night in the trees, she offered me a place next to her in her sleeping bag. Grateful, I slid in next to her, laying my head on her shoulders. It reminded me of being at home, cozy with my siblings next to me in bed, and I had my first peaceful sleep since I left home. We spent the next day eating and sleeping well, regaining our strength. Katniss' leg healed over completely, and she no longer walked with a limp.

"We need to cut down on the advantage that the Careers have," Katniss said thoughtfully while three squirrels were cooking. "We don't stand a chance against them head to head, but we can destroy what supplies they have. They come from rich districts; they don't know how to starve like we can."

"How do we do that?" I asked curiously. "I know where their camp is. I think it's only guarded by one boy. I saw it a few days ago. He was burying something. He treated them as if they might explode if he dropped it."

"How far is this field from here?" she asked.

"I'm not sure, exactly," I replied hesitantly. "Maybe a few hours' walk? Not too far, but I don't think the arena is that big to begin with."

We hatched a plan to lure the Careers away from their camp with black burning fires. I would set three of them in total, before taking to the trees for safety along the stream. We spent the remainder of the day gathering wood and getting them ready to be lit the following morning.

"There will be no way for either of us to tell if we made it or not," she said the next morning as she divided up our remaining food. "To send some sort of audible signal would only draw the dead mutts to us. If I'm not back here by tomorrow night, do not wait for me any longer. If all goes according to plan, the Careers won't last much longer and you'll have a good chance of emerging the winner."

Stomach rolling nervously, I hugged her goodbye and watched as she headed toward the field. Swallowing tears and fear, I climbed a tree and carefully made my way to the first fire. Except for the occasional stray mutt, my route was empty. My fingers fumbled as I struck the first match and I accidentally broke it in half. Grabbing another and breathing slowly, I successfully lit it and threw it into the base of the fire where we had laid dried leaves as tinder. Blowing on the smoke, I made sure that the fire was stable before leaving the area.

I reached the second fire without interference, and quickly lit it. Grinning, I turned to climb a tree again when I smacked face first into a dead mutt. It grabbed at my shoulders, and attempted to sink its teeth into my arm. Yanking away, I quickly sprinted away from it, looking over my shoulder every now and then. All of a sudden, I was jerked into the air. I panicked when I realized that I couldn't move and that I was trapped by a net. I struggled harshly against the thick ropes of the net, trying to yank them apart and biting at them. I tried bouncing up and down to see if I could break the branch the net was suspended from but it did absolutely nothing.

Too fearful of drawing the attention of the undead to scream and too scared to keep quiet, I put my head into my hands and cried. I sobbed for my mother and my grandmother, sobbed for home and the smell of the orchards wafting in through the open window. I knew that Katniss would not be able to find me right now. This is how I would die, strung up 3 feet in the air to become either Career or dead mutt bait.

The night was long, and every snap of a branch and crackle of leaves made me believe that the dead mutts had come to chew my legs off. I shivered from a combination of fear and cold. I greeted the morning hopeful, certain that Katniss would come for me and cut me down. When I heard rustling in the distance, I started struggling against the net again. Seeing a Career emerge from between the trees, I started screaming for Katniss. As I jerked my head behind me, hearing hurried footsteps, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. Looking down, I saw a spear piercing through my stomach. Stunned, I barely registered Katniss cutting the net down and gently lowering me on my back. I lay at an awkward angle due to the spearhead jutting out of my back.

I felt myself grow cold and numb.

"You need to get out of here, Katniss," I whispered. "All this blood will attract the mutts."

"No, I'm not leaving you Rue," she insisted. "You're going to be fine; I'll make you better."

Chin trembling, I made her promise me that she would win. At her nod, I teared up, fearing the darkness.

"Shh, Rue," Katniss murmured. "You'll be home soon. You'll be with your family."

Smiling, I put the image of my family into my head, saying a slow goodbye to each of them. A fever overtook me until I could swear that Katniss had thrown me into a fire. I could smell blood, and it drew me up. Warm flesh hovered nearby, within arm's reach. I needed to reach it.

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**Author's Note:** Katniss and Peeta's POV will be introduced in the next two chapters. Thanks for reading and reviews are appreciated as always!


	7. Chapter 7: Katniss

Chapter 7: Katniss

Sudden despair. Emerging above the ground, I felt bile rise to the back of my throat. I could barely stomach looking at living flesh that needed healing, much less stumbling shambles of people whose skin peeled off their bones. I could smell the rot wafting through the hole in the barrier above me. As I glanced around me, I noticed one hysterical tribute crouched against the invisible wall, screaming at the top of her lungs while a dead thing clawing from the outside trying to get at her, snarling and tearing its fingertips until it oozed black blood.

Ripping my eyes from that spectacle, I forced myself to scan the weapons and supplies scattered lightly around the Cornucopia. A gorgeous set of bow and arrows was too far away for me to reach; not only would I have to fight my way through the tributes to reach it, I would also have to avoid being attacked by something that was falling apart from rot but managed to still be vicious. A small pack of possible supplies lay in front of me, close enough that I could grab it and run, but I could see the tribute boy from 8 getting himself ready to snatch it up as well.

The gong rang, and I sprinted to the pack, reaching it slightly before the 8 boy. We briefly tousled over the backpack before blood erupted from his mouth, and he collapsed with a cry, the dead instantly swarming over him. It seemed that they were attracted to the smell of his fresh blood and they quickly stripped him to the bone, tossing wet chunks everywhere. I would have to be careful not to get injured in this arena, or it could mean the death of me by my own doing. I quickly rolled away from the carnage, the dead mutts ignoring me in favor of fresh meat.

I glanced back at the Cornucopia inadvertently and managed to catch the knife hurled my way by the snarling girl from District 2. I pulled it from the pack to slash at a dead mutt in my way. Instead of falling down from the deep gash in its chest, it let out an eerie groan and lunged at me with a rasping moan. Rolling out of its way, I plunged into the trees, going just deep enough for the noise of the bloodshed to fade and the mutts to clear out.

Pressing my back against a tree, I sank down to the ground, trying to catch my breath. My heart pounded and my head swam with the memories of blood and innards that I had seen at the Cornucopia. The girl I had seen earlier had been immediately attacked by the dead mutt when the barrier dropped and her anguished cries as it slowly fed on her still rang in my ears. I had left her without a thought or care for her well-being. I clutched at my hair and pressed my forehead onto my bent knees, trying to force down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm me.

A shuffle of leaves, however, drew me out of my haze, the tell-tale groan confirming that there were dead mutts in the area. I had to get away from them. I looked up into the branches of the tree I was resting under. It was strong and could easily hold my weight. I climbed until I was out of reach of even the tallest of the other tributes and checked my pack.

A sleeping bag, a pair of odd glasses, a flashlight, a thin coil of metal wire, some salted crackers. But it was the empty water canteen that drew my attention. I suddenly became aware of how thirsty I was and, with crackers as my only sustenance for the foreseeable future, how thirsty I would become. I remembered some advice that Haymitch had given us in his more sober moments.

_Dehydration kills faster than Careers_.

I scanned the area rapidly. The forest was rather prolific in this area, which meant that there was either plentiful rainfall or a water source nearby that they were drawing from. My head snapped the left when I heard more groaning and snarls. I watched dumbfounded as an entire herd of mutts shambled slowly past my tree, not bothering to glance up or even around. I did notice one of them stumble over something on the ground, his rotting shoes scraping against something that sounded hollow.

When they disappeared through the trees, I carefully dropped down and crept to the odd patch of ground. Brushing aside leaves and dirt, I discovered a wooden circle with a fraying, rope handle. Curiosity got the better of me and I took a firm grasp of the handle, bracing my legs around the perimeter of the wooden lid. I was able to move it a few inches and moist air rose up to greet me along with the sound of sloshing water. I eagerly shoved the lid completely off the well and stared down into its darkness. I couldn't see the water from the shadows of the trees but my nose and ears confirmed that it was there.

Pulling the wire and canteen out of my pack, I tied a careful knot through the neck of the canteen and lowered it into the well, hoping that the water wasn't too deep. A hair-raising and hacking snarl came from the depths of the well when the canteen disappeared from view and I was suddenly jerked downward. Startled, I dropped the wire and stared horrified as it disappeared down the well. Scrambling, I lunged forward, grasping the end of the metal just as it was getting ready to slip over the edge. The wire dug into my skin as I pulled backward on it, feeling the resistance from something trying to pull me in. I was slowly losing ground and my hands became slick with blood from the sharp metal. Gritting my teeth, I wrapped the wire around my wrists and pulled backward as hard as I could. With a snarl, the canteen was released and I fell backwards. I quickly reeled it in and rapidly scooted away from the well, breathing hard and shaking.

Curiosity, however, got the better of me and I flicked on the flashlight, shining light down into the well. A bloated and purple mutt growled up at me, reaching its arms upward.

Was this how the Gamemakers planned to kill us? By poisoning the water supply and sending mutts that ate us? No- it couldn't be. It was too easy and too quick. There had to be other water sources out there. I remembered a farmhouse on the other side of the arena, but that was bound to be occupied by now, probably by the Careers.

_Focus, Katniss. If there's one, there has to be more. Find one that doesn't have a mutt in it._

I set out away from the Cornucopia again, poking at the ground with a long stick I found. Every time wood met wood, I investigated. Each time I pried the heavy lid off a well, a mutt greeted me, the blood from my hands attracting their immediate attention. Hours passed and I slowly lost track of the number of wells I tried. Each lid became heavier and more cumbersome; each failure was harder to bear. My mouth dried and my head swam. My vision narrowed with each step I took. I was using the stick more as a crutch than to poke at the ground.

I fell to my knees when I heard the characteristic _thud_ of another wooden lid covering a well. Instinct compelled me to muster the little strength I had left and flip the lid. It felt strangely lighter than I remembered. I tossed in the canteen down the hole with abandon, knowing that I was mutt bait if I didn't find fresh water here. I vaguely registered the splash when the container hit the surface of unbroken water and crawled toward the hole.

Gone was the faint musty odor of death and, instead, clean water greeted me. It seemed to sparkle and wink at me as I stared down into it, the sunlight dancing off its surface. I quickly pulled the bottle out of the well, staring at the water that sloshed out of the top. I raised the water to my lips but stopped when a light _clink_ sounded behind me. Rolling around, head swimming, I realized that Haymitch had sent me a gift. Iodine. Water purifier.

As agonizing the wait was for the water to become safe to drink, it did not compare to the relief and exhilaration when the first drops hit my parched tongue. I suddenly became aware of where I was. I was exposed in the middle of a field. Somehow, my delirious stumbling had led me out of the forest and closer back toward a farmhouse. I crouched down and ran for the woods behind me, taking careful note of where the well was located. A sturdy tree became my perch for the next several nights as I hunted and scouted. I met several dead mutts along the way, one of my rabbits was completely destroyed by one, but managed to avoid them.

I was lucky for Rue to have found me after the Gamemakers had set the forest on fire. I had been barely able to stumble away from the burning trees and bushes only to smack into a flaming mutt. Its distorted face as the rotting flesh melted away from the bone, charred and smoking, forced up the bird I had eaten for breakfast. I ran away from it as fast as I could, only discovering my burn from the mutt when I had escaped the heat and paused for a moment to catch my breath. The excruciating pain was momentarily put on hold when the Careers and Peeta were chasing me.

As the adrenaline eased out of my system after I was safely nestled in a tree, the burn drew my attention again. I tried dabbing it with some water to see the extent of the wound, but just the sight of burned flesh was enough to make me gag. I tried to relax and find a plan before morning that would lead to my escape from the Careers. The branch next to mine dipping considerably startled me and I swung my head toward the disturbance, knowing that if it was a Career I was dead. Rue's soft voice was almost as big of a comfort as the leaves she smeared on my leg.

It felt almost as if I was home again, with Prim. I looked after Rue the same way I would Prim and the handful of days I had with her were the biggest joys I had since leaving District 12. Watching her become impaled by that spear, knowing that if I had only planned our attack better or even if I had kept her out of it, tore at my heart. Watching her turn into a mutt, however, tore at my soul.

I held her until she took her last breath and then lowered her gently onto the ground. I leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek when suddenly her hand, still grasped in mine, tightened and her eyes snapped open.

"Rue!" I exclaimed. "You're alive?"

In response, she snarled at me and lunged toward my neck. Instictively, I pushed her backward and strung an arrow onto my newly acquired bow. Never had I thought I would have to use it against my own ally.

"Rue, please," I pleaded, backing away from her slowly. "It's me, Katniss. Don't you recognize me?"

She advanced quickly, arms raised in front of her, hands grasping and eyes a milky void. I realized that I couldn't leave her here. She needed to be put to rest and her family shouldn't have to see her like this. Not sweet Rue. I quickly sent an arrow through her head. She reeled backward and fell to the ground, finally unmoving.

My vision hazed as tears filled my eyes and I knelt onto the ground next to her body again. I leaned forward to pull the arrow out when I was tackled to the ground.

"Stay down," a familiar voice hissed in my ear before a large mass took off.

I quickly wiped away my tears and stared, frozen, as Peeta, brandishing a large spear, singlehandedly took down 3 mutts. I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye and quickly sent an arrow through a mutt in what appeared to be Capitol garb before Peeta's pained cry drew my attention back to him.

He was pinned down under another mutt who had latched onto his leg. An arrow quickly stopped its movements. I approached Peeta slowly.

"Go, Katniss," he yelled, pointing his spear toward me, the tip shaking. "I've been bitten. I'll turn into one of them now. It's how Glimmer died. It won't be long now. Get out of here!"

I turned to run but hesitated, unable to leave Peeta when he was so vulnerable. I cautiously walked back to him.

"How long do you have?" I asked him, kneeling down and inspecting his wound.

"A couple of hours at the most," he replied, gasping in pain when I tried to splash water into the bite. "Glimmer was bitten on the ankle and she turned very rapidly. You need to get leave me, Katniss. It's not safe for you."

"Shut up," I hissed, glancing around us.

I spied more of the leaves that Rue had placed on my burn and, choking down more tears at the thought of her sweet face twisted in a grimace, grabbed a handful and mashed them together in my mouth. Ignoring Peeta's further pleas, I spat the mixture into the small container of burn cream Haymitch had sent me. Maybe the two mixed together would help fight off the infection or at least buy me some more time to think.

"Stop, Katniss," Peeta ordered, grabbing my hand before I could apply the salve to his leg. "Just get out of here. There's nothing you can do for me now."

"I'm not leaving you here to turn into one of them," I replied, snatching my hand away. I liberally applied some of the green-tinted salve to the bite mark and wrapped it in a strip of my shirt.

"We have to get out of here," I told Peeta as I helped him to his feet. "We're too exposed and there's no telling where the mutts are coming from."

Glancing back to Rue one final time, I half dragged, half assisted Peeta through the woods, trying to find viable shelter for us. After a couple of hours, with frequent breaks to rest Peeta and for me tend to his leg again, we stumbled upon a rundown shed, padlocked from the outside.

"Stay here," I told Peeta, gently lowering him against one of the grey wooden sides. "I'm going to see if there's a way in."

Surprisingly, the padlock crumbled in my hands with just the lightest tug and I cautiously pulled open the door. Inside, I found two mutts who instantly advanced on me, hands outstretched and rasping ominously. I strung two arrows in rapid succession, backpedalling when they came too close for my liking.

"Katniss!" Peeta rasped. "What's going on?"

"It's ok," I replied. "I took care of it."

I dragged the dead mutts away from the entrance of the shed and piled the bodies together. I kept them relatively close to us, however. Their smell may help to hide ours and avoid attracting the others.

I helped Peeta into the shed which was large enough to fit us lying down comfortably. The inside reeked of the dead but I was able to force open the window to let in some fresh air. I settle Peeta as comfortably as I could against the wall farthest from the door, tucked into my sleeping bag, and sat down next to him.

"No, Katniss," he said, shaking his head. "You have to get away from me. I could turn into a mutt at any time and I don't want you dying because of me."

"Stop talking about it, Peeta," I warned him. "You're not going to turn."

"At least tie me up or something," he pleaded.

I remembered the metal wire I had in my bag and nodded. I gently wound the wire around his wrists and ankles before he ordered me to tie it tighter.

"If you're going to stay with me, I won't have you taking any chances," he said stubbornly.

It was a long night for both of us. I caught myself dozing off several times only to be woken by Peeta's delirious fever moans. I checked on him constantly and by morning, my supply of water and the cream had diminshed. I could see how pale he was. His skin, while clammy, was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he was burning up.

My meager dinner threatened to come back up when I was able to see his leg in the dusty sunlight. Faint red lines sprawled in a hundred directions from the wound. Blood poisoning. I could feel myself becoming faint and tried to steady myself by thinking like Prim. How would she handle this?

_You need to cut off the blood supply between the infected wound and the rest of the healthy tissue,_ she told me in my head, smiling gently. _Find some way to tie it off, Katniss. Think!_

"Katniss?" Peeta's faint voice jolted me from my reverie.

"Still here, Peeta," I quickly replied, rushing to his side and pushing back his damp hair. "Do you think you could drink some more?"

"Yeah, I think so," he replied weakly.

I managed to dribble a few drops past his chapped lips before he started coughing. He gently pushed the canteen away and grasped my hand instead.

"Katniss, you need to stop being stubborn about this," he muttered, fever bright eyes staring intently into mine. "You need to get out of here. If they find you here, we're both easy targets."

"I'll leave you if you can answer this honestly, Peeta," I replied, squeezing his hand. "Would you ever leave me like this?"

I managed to muster some tears, built up from the stress of the past 24 hours, hoping to sway some Sponsors to send Peeta and me some supplies to treat his leg. Peeta seemed legitimately surprised by my question.

"I-" he began, swallowing hard. "No."

"See?" I responded, laying a gentle palm against his cheek. "I'm not going to let you die either."

A gentle thud on the roof of the shed followed by light scraping immediately had me on my feet, an arrow set into the bow.

"Katniss?" Peeta whispered.

I motioned for him to be silent and snuck to the door, cracking it. A small, metal container greeted me. A jubilant smile radiated across my face as I quickly swung open the door. So focused on the little cylinder that I didn't notice the mutt until Peeta's cry. It tackled me to the ground so that I was pinned under its snapping jaws and unmistakable stench. I looked frantically for the bow and arrows that had been knocked out of my grasp but they were out of reach.

One hand pushed the mutt's gaping jaws away from my face as the other grasped the rough ground for something to use as a weapon. Suuddenly, a black-bloodied arrow was thrust through the center of the mutt's forehead. I urgently pushed it off of me and wiped off the splattered blood on my face and neck with the back of my hand.

"Did he get you?"

"No, you were just in…Peeta!" I exclaimed as I realized who my savior was.

He grinned at me before swaying slightly. I caught him just as his legs crumpled out from under him.

"That was incredibly stupid," I scolded gently as I dragged him back into the shed.

He was pale and shaking from a mixture of pain and fever.

"He's not going to make it," I muttered as Peeta fell back into a troubled sleep.

I suddenly remembered the Sponsors' gift and eagerly pried the metal cylinder open. A bottle of water tumbled out and a small pill.

"What…" I mused as I turned the little white pill in my hand.

"Tributes!" a deep voice boomed from the sky.

I immediately hustled out of the shed, knowing that a message from the Gamemakers could only mean one thing- a feast.

"I hope you are enjoying Head Gamemaker Crane's surprise for Panem! At noon, a feast will commence at the Cornucopia. You will be provided with supplies essential to each of our surviving tributes' survival. The dead mutts will be called off for the time being until the feast. May the odds be ever in your favor!"

* * *

**Author's Note**: In honor of the new season's Walking Dead. :) Reviews are incredibly appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8: The Reveal

_Final Confrontation at the Cornucopia_

As I glared at Cato from the point of my arrow, my thoughts spun in circles.

'_How can I save Peeta? I can't just leave him to die! Why do you care, Katniss? Just shoot them both and you'll be home soon. Don't be a hero. Prim needs you!'_

I pulled back harder on the string but, just as I released the arrow, the force field above us exploded. I watched, horrified, as the arrow sailed past Peeta's ear and lodged itself into Cato's shoulder. I stumbled forward and caught Peeta as he was pushed away from the falling District 2 tribute. I steadied him as I watched Cato fall backward, the fear in his eyes clear as day. I winced when he struck the ground with a heavy _thud_ and scrambled to the edge of the Cornucopia.

Nausea threatened to bring me to my knees as I watched the mutts tear into him, their fingernails digging into his unprotected belly and pulling out handfuls of intestines. Suddenly I was pulled backwards and, thinking a mutt had managed to climb up with us, immediately fought it.

"Katniss, stop!" Peeta cried, fending off my blows. "We need to get away from the edge."

I followed his pointing finger and, with a gasp, watched Cato push himself off the ground. His entire chest cavity had been torn open and chunks of lung and stomach swung about as he joined the mass of mutts surrounding us, pounding on the golden sides of the Cornucopia.

"What's going on?" I asked desperately. "Shouldn't the Gamemakers have announced us the winners by now?"

"I don't know," he replied, looking around the clearing. "I think the power was probably knocked out when the force field collapsed around the arena."

Our attention was drawn to gunfire by the farmhouse and, suddenly and simultaneously, the attention of the mutts was drawn away from us and toward the noise. Peeta and I stared, stunned, as the last of them disappeared through the trees, snarling and moaning.

"What was that about?" he asked quietly.

In response, a hovercraft appeared silently overhead, a ladder quickly descending from a hole in its bottom.

"Katniss, Peeta, get in!" a familiar voice shouted down to us. When we hesitated, it screamed, "Well if you don't care if you live or die, then by all means, just stand there like idiots."

I pushed Peeta, who was limping heavily, toward the ladder and we were both frozen in place as it retracted. Haymitch, our angel from the sky, was waiting for us with water and some food. I ignored the sandwiches and soup to guzzle an entire bottle of water, trying to flush out of my mouth the taste of dead, rotting flesh and congealed blood.

"Easy," Haymitch warned, prying the bottle out of my hand. "Don't want to make yourself sick right before you're named a winner do you?"

"I'm a winner," I whispered, stunned. "We actually won."

"That's right, Sweetheart," he replied, gently leading me to a seat next to Peeta. "It's all downhill from here."

I caught a slight shadow in his eyes as he said those words but, before I could ask, a Peacekeeper announced that we had arrived at the Capitol.

"So soon?" I asked, surprised.

"It seems that Seneca Crane was so confident in this arena, he wanted it to become a regular tourist spot for Capitol citizens," Haymitch said with a sneer. "He built the damned thing just outside of the mountains around the Capitol."

"Haymitch," Peeta inquired, speaking for the first time since we were pulled from the arena. "Why did the force field go down? Will that release the mutts into the wild?"

"Shut up, boy," Haymitch hissed, clamping a hand around Peeta's mouth and quickly looking to make sure none of the Peacekeepers heard. "The fewer questions you ask now, the faster you'll be able to get home. Just act like nothing is wrong, you hear me?"

We both nodded, suspicion rolling through me like thunder. I hadn't been worried before but Haymitch had just given me a reason to do so. While it was true that the force field had held the tributes in the arena, it also prevented the mutts from escaping into the general public. Was that what the gunfire had been about? Were the Peacekeepers exterminating them so that they couldn't infect the Capitol?

We were quickly ushered in to the clinic and I was separated from Peeta. Doctors, faces hidden behind surgical masks, immediately stripped me down and pushed me back onto an immaculately white hospital bed. As I was being poked and fussed over, my mind wandered back to those I had seen turn from child tributes into…something else. Something unnatural. Cato's mangled body rising off the ground; Rue's sweet face contorted into a hungry snarl; Peeta's mangled leg when I finally made it back to him with the antibiotics I had fought for at the Feast.

I was patched up quickly enough, my wounds from the arena healed and the scars erased, and shown into a small waiting room in the clinic. Haymitch sat inside, his head in his hands.

"Hey there, sweetheart," he grumbled when the door closed, his face pale. "I got some bad news for you. You're going to want to sit down for this."

I perched on the edge of a hard, plastic chair across from him, eyeing him nervously.

"They had to take Peeta's leg," he said without further ceremony. "Apparently they were still afraid that the infection could turn him, so they did the safest thing. The good news is that, thanks to the medication you got for him, the infection didn't spread beyond the bite."

"They took his leg?" I asked numbly.

"Would you rather watch him turn into a mutt?" Haymitch growled, stalking out of the room.

He paused before opening the door. "Remember what I said earlier. Don't ask questions. Act like you're the happiest person in the world right now."

I was relieved when my prep team stormed into the room amidst a frenzy of tears and silk to distract me. Within a few hours, I was shuffled into a car, fully dressed and on my way to my interview with Caesar.

After we were led onstage, Peeta and I were reunited with much flourish and a slight wobble from him as he adjusted to his false leg. We were settled onto a couch in front of Caesar after waving at the audience, beaming with what I hoped looked to be post-arena elation. He immediately flew into a series of questions, most of which required only a simpering smile and a nod from me while Peeta elaborated. Just as I found my attention wavering, a sudden movement by President Snow drew my eyes upward.

A male Peacekeeper was leaning in and whispering furiously in the President's ear. Snow's brow was slowly furrowing, his frown deepening. Suddenly, he shot up out of his seat, his cushioned chair falling backward with a bang that alarmed Caesar and the audience alike, and stormed out of the auditorium.

The noticeably flustered Caesar tried to bring the conversation back to our victory, but stumbled through a few questions before finally simply congratulating us and sending us on our way.

"What was that about?" Peeta muttered as we were led back to the car.

"I don't know," I replied. "But I doubt it'll be good news for us. How's your leg doing?"

"Not too bad," he said, smiling. "Thanks to you, at least I'm still alive."

He took my hand with a shy smile. I quickly pulled back my hand, uncomfortable with the slight display of affection. Peeta simply sighed and leaned back in his seat.

"I wasn't lying you know," he muttered. "During the tribute interviews when I said that I had a crush on you. I meant it. I had hoped that you'd come to like me too, especially after what we've just been through."

"I'm sorry, Peeta," I replied, turning my head away from him and staring out into the Capitol streets. "I just can't do that right now. I just want to go home and forget it ever happened."

We were silent the rest of the car ride. When we finally arrived at the Training Center, a somber Haymitch greeted us as we stepped off the elevator on our floor.

"Well our train home has been delayed for a couple of days," he grumbled. "I was told that there was a rockslide in the mountains surrounding the tracks which damaged some of the rails."

Stunned and furious, I stared at him for a few seconds before storming off to my room. We were supposed to be able to leave tomorrow after our crowning ceremonies. I was supposed to see Prim the next morning. Help her and our mother get settled into our new home in Victors' Village. For the first time in weeks, I was supposed be able to truely smile with Gale in the woods as we hunted down dinner.

I threw myself down onto the bed and, realizing finally just how exhausted I was, immediately fell asleep.

_I walked across a scraggly patch of grass, surrounded by trees. Looking to my left, I saw the farmhouse from the arena. How did I wind up back here?_

"_Katniss!" _

_Looking toward the back door, I saw Prim in a billowing white dress._

_Smiling widely, I ran toward her and scooped her into my arms. _

"_Katniss, I don't have much time!" she exclaimed, pushing me back and grasping my arms. "You have to get out of the Capitol as soon as you can!"_

"_I know, Prim, but the road is blocked," I replied calmly, smoothing back her hair._

"_Get out! Get out! Katniss! Katniss!"_

Loud pounding and shouting at the door jolted me awake.

"Sweetheart, get out here and eat," Haymitch's gruff voice ordered. "Stop pouting, there's nothing you can do about it."

"Give me a second," I shouted back, still rattled from my dream.

I opened the door to a concerned but wobbly Haymitch.

"What were you yelling for?" he muttered, blocking my exit.

"I didn't know if you could hear me through the door," I replied.

"No, before that. You were yelling about Prim."

I stared at him for a second.

"It's nothing," I said, brushing past him and walking to the dining room. "Just a bad dream."

"Oh, Katniss!" Effie exclaimed when she saw me. "You just missed a thrilling recap of your Games. I still tear up every time I see you nursing poor Peeta back to health after he got bit on the leg by that mutt. To think he still lost his leg-"

"Actually, Effie, the vogue term these days is zombie, I believe," Flavius interrupted.

"Yes, whatever," Effie said dismissively, flapping her hands at Flavius. "Well the food should be here soon, lets-"

But she was cut off by the television, which started blaring the Panem anthem. A solemn President Snow came on the screen.

"Good evening my fellow citizens. I have an announcement from the Transportation Department which I fear will affect us all. All travel in and out of the city will be halted for the next few days as crews try to get around an avalanche that occurred earlier today. I appreciate your understanding and patience in this matter. I will keep you updated on our progress. In the meantime, food will be rationed until the railroads have been cleared again."

He gave the cameras a curt nod before the feed cut out and was replaced by flamboyant newsmen, excitedly discussing the new development.

"Does this mean we won't get out new supply of textiles?" Flavius asked, outraged. "I've been looking forward to those all week!"

As the prep team fussed over their laces and silks, Haymitch and Peeta sidled over to me quietly.

"He's lying," Haymitch muttered. "I can tell."

"How?" Peeta asked, bewildered. "I remember the mountains as we came in. It's feasible that an avalanche could occur."

"Those mountains were reinforced years ago against any such accidents," Haymitch replied. "They won't teach you that in your history lessons because they don't like to give away Captiol secrets. Think though, boy. Why would they nestle the Capitol, the lifeblood of this country, in between mountains which could crush it at any time?"

"But why lie?" I said. "What is he hiding?"

"Not here," he growled, looking at the Peacekeepers who still watched us diligently. "Meet me on the roof after dinner. I have to go and contact some of my sources in the Capitol. Hopefully my fears aren't confirmed."

Dinner was tense for Peeta and I, both wondering what had made Haymitch so testy and nervous. Effie tried to draw us into conversation but after the third time that we replied with polite but short responses, she huffed at us and turned her attention to the prep teams. Halfway through the main course, Haymitch joined us along with Cinna. My trusted mentor immediately poured himself a drink, downing it quickly before filling the small glass again, all the while avoiding my stare.

Irritated, I turned to smile at Cinna, who returned my grin rather hesitantly. When I opened my mouth to ask, he simply put a finger to his mouth and shook his head slightly.

Frowning and frustrated, I stared down at my half finished chicken. I jumped when I felt a warm hand on my knee.

"Relax, Katniss," Peeta whispered, squeezing my knee before returning to his dinner. "They'll tell us when it's safe."

Sighing, I picked at the rest of my food until dessert was cleared away and Effie sent us to bed.

"I hope they'll let you keep these accommodations until the landslide is cleared away," she trilled as she floated down to her room, shutting the door tightly behind her with a "Goodnight all!"

"Sometimes I seriously cannot stand her," I muttered. "Let's go. Haymitch should be waiting for us on the roof."

"You can't blame her for believing what the Capitol tells her," Peeta chided. "She's never known any other kind of life."

I pushed aside his comments and led the way up the stairwell. The minute I opened the door granting access to the roof, Cinna pulled me into a fierce hug.

"I'm so glad you're alright," he whispered into the top of my head.

"What's going on? Really?" I asked, pushing away from him. He hushed me again and led us to the edge of the roof, the wind whistling past our ears and whipping my loose hair about my cheeks.

"Is there really an avalanche?" Peeta asked.

"Yes, apparently," Cinna answered. "Haymitch will be able to tell you more details but the avalanche is real."

"I thought that area was fortified," I said. "That's what you told us, Haymitch."

"And they are, they were," he said, shrugging. "But Snow had them blow up a side of the mountain to act as a blockade of sorts until the Peacekeepers get them under control."

"Get who under control?" I asked, confused.

"The mutts, zombies, whatever," Haymitch grumbled. "When that idiot boy shot out the force field, it released every single mutt from the arena. You don't know this but the Gamemakers had hundreds in reserve on the edges of that farm. I think Crane underestimated how hard they'd be to kill. I don't think he realized how much they liked to swarm either."

"They're close to the Capitol then," Peeta stated in a hushed undertone. "Can they spread to other areas?"

"Yes and they already have," Haymitch replied. "I've received sketchy reports from District 1, which starts just outside the Capitol. They've spotted zombies closing in on their fences. They've already killed several guards who didn't know what they were dealing with."

"That's terrible," Peeta murmured, sitting harshly on the building ledge.

"That's not all, kid," Haymitch grumbled. "Snow's put the blame for this entirely on Seneca Crane's shoulders. He's going to be publicly executed tomorrow in the square with falsified evidence of conspiracy to commit treason."

* * *

**Author's** **Note: **I skipped ahead quite a bit as I felt this story was getting redundant. I finally realized which direction I wanted to take it so away we go! Thanks for reading and reviews are very much appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9: The Spread

Chapter 9

I went to bed that night with a heavy heart. I was trapped in the Capitol for an indefinite amount of time with no way to warn Prim or District 12 of the impending wave of zombies that could potentially drown the nation. My mind kept turning over the image of a hapless Peacekeeper approaching a dead mutt, thinking it was just a wandering citizen. How did it kill him? By ripping out his throat? Maybe by devouring him alive while his shrieks alerted the other guards?

I rolled over on my expansive and decadently soft Capitol bed, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. 2:46 AM. Obviously I wasn't going to be getting any sleep that night. Would I ever sleep again without rotting, snapping faces floating through my mind?

I tossed back my covers with a frustrated sigh and stalked to my window. The mountains were barely visible in the weak moonlight and over the skyline of the city. Below me in the streets of the Capitol, a handful of brightly dressed citizens stumbled about, obviously drunk. Snorting in disgust, I walked out of my room. It felt stifling indoors so I headed again for the stairwell. Emerging onto the roof, I inhaled deeply, reveling in the wind playing through my hair.

"Couldn't sleep either?"

I looked quickly toward the voice and found Peeta perched on the ledge of the building, his false leg stretched out in front of him. Shaking my head, I sat down across from him.

"This just all feels wrong," he murmured, staring past me into the city lights. "I should hate Seneca Crane for his part in the Games but I can't help but feel sorry for him. We've been through so much because of him and 22 children ended up eaten by mutts which I couldn't even have come up with in my most messed up of dreams. Still, he doesn't deserve to die with everyone thinking he's a traitor."

"I'm glad he'll die," I retorted. "He should be subjected to everything he put his tributes through. I would give almost anything to see him try to fight one of those _zombies_ with his bare hands. Or put through that ridiculous maze filled with those mechanical slugs. Or-"

"Yeah I get it," Peeta interjected. "You hate him because he dreams up ridiculous deaths for mass amounts of children every year. But that's his normal, Katniss. He sees that as normal as you would sneaking out into the woods to hunt; as I would kneading dough for the morning's bread. Who are we to fault him for living his life? Would you fault the District scientists for creating the zombies? Would you fault District gravediggers for selling the dead to those scientists to make some extra money to feed their families?"

"Wait, how do you know that the bodies were sold?" I asked, confused.

"I recognized one of them," Peeta said quietly, pain filling his eyes. "One of my friends from school died about a month before the Games. He was the one that bit my leg in the arena. I hesitated when I saw him. It…surprised me. It explained, too, how the Gravedigger in 12 was able to afford 2 loaves of fresh bread every day."

"Oh Peeta," I gasped.

"You said you wanted to forget that any of this happened," he continued, unaware of my interruption. "I want to never forget. I don't want to forget meeting people that not only thought that the Hunger Games were normal but actually derived real enjoyment from it. I don't want to forget that there are other Districts out there that are in as dire conditions as 12 is. I don't want to forget you."

He shifted his eyes to look into mine.

"You were what motivated me to get out of the arena alive, Katniss. You may not want to believe that you felt something while we were holed up in that shack together but I saw it. I hope someday you can, too."

I frowned and a memory pushed its way into my mind.

"_Peeta! I have your medicine. Peeta?" _

_I was startled to see Peeta hunched against the back wall of the dusty shed, his face ashen grey and his breathing shallow. _

"_No! No, don't do this, Peeta! Not when I can finally help you!"_

_I dropped the pack from the Feast quickly to the ground and pulled out the small syringe. It was filled with a clear, blue-tinged liquid. I flicked the plastic cover off the needle and plunged it into Peeta's leg. I needed him to be alive. I needed to pay him back for the bread and my opportunity had finally come. A life for a life._

_Several long minutes passed without improvement. His fever spiked. I needed water. He would dehydrate before the medicine could take effect. I realized with a sinking in my stomach that he had knocked over the remainder of the water bottle Haymitch sent before the feast. The pill had put him into a restless sleep, providing me with an opportunity to go to the Feast without interference from him. In case he woke thirsty, I had put the bottle within arm's length before leaving._

_Cursing at my helplessness, I tried to lay out my options in my racing head. I had lost most of my supplies at the Cornucopia while wrestling Clove. I didn't know of any untainted water in this area. The closest clean well was over an hour's walk away. By then, the mutts or Cato could have found Peeta or he could have succumbed to his fever. _

_An idea suddenly clicked in my mind. Haymitch said to play up the lovers' story. I would milk those sponsors for all they were worth so we could both survive this. I returned to Peeta and laid a gentle hand on his slick and dangerously hot forehead._

"_Peeta, can you hear me? Please come back to me. Don't leave me alone. I need you. Please?"_

_I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his chapped lips. My first kiss. Sold to the Sponsors who would delight in my victory as much as my death. I smiled against him as I heard a metallic thud outside the shed._

_Cautiously, I cracked open the door and scanned the area. The canister had landed within arm's reach this time and I eagerly brought it inside. Cracking it open, I found 3 bottles of water and a thermos full of rich lamb stew. _

_Perfect. They had bought the act. I quickly opened one of the bottles and sprinkled a few drops into Peeta's mouth. He had no reaction to the water and sweat continued to pour out of him. _

'_This isn't working,' I thought. 'This isn't what I do best. Prim-'_

_No. I would not bring Prim into the arena in any way at all, even by thinking of her. What would my mother do? I had often seen her put strips of wet cloth on sick people's heads to bring down fever. Tearing through the bottom of my t-shirt with an arrowhead, I carefully wet the strip and laid it against Peeta's forehead._

_Laying the back of my hand against his cheek a few minutes later, it seemed that his fever was coming down. I dripped a few more drops of water into his mouth and he sputtered a bit before cracking his eyes open._

"_Oh thank goodness, Peeta!"_

_I laid a soft kiss on his lips in relief, my stomach fluttering oddly when he gave me a weak smile._

"_Am I dead?"_

_Laughing slightly, I hushed him and got him to drink some more water before he fell asleep again. Shortly after sunset, his fever finally broke and he was able to take a few sips of the stew._

"_You should eat too," he urged me, pushing the thermos away from him._

"_I'm not the one who almost died," I reminded him, passing him a water bottle._

"_Yes but you're the one who risked your life for me, despite my dying wishes," he said, raising his eyebrows. "You still owe me for that."_

"_Oh yeah?" I teased. "Will this pay back my debt?"_

_I pressed my lips against his again, sighing in relief that they no longer burned against my skin. _

"_That's a good start," he grinned when I pulled back._

We had spent the rest of that night sipping water and sharing childhood stories as the color returned to Peeta's face. By morning, he was almost 100% again, or so he said. If his leg was still bad enough to warrant amputation, it must have been excruciating running from the hoard of mutts. Despite my best efforts, my respect for Peeta rose.

He was right. I did feel something that night as we got to know each other better. I mostly participated to keep up appearances for the Sponsors though, or so I told myself. By morning, we had received more water, a fruit basket, a wedge of cheese, and a loaf of what Peeta declared was his favorite variety of bread.

"Do you think we'll ever get home?" I asked quietly.

"I'll get you there, Katniss," Peeta promised solemnly. "No matter what it takes."

I smiled at him, not believing his words. Poor, mild Peeta was still trying to impress me. Unbidden, Gale's face floated into the back of my mind, his grin teasing and confident. I shook my head. Now was not the time to worry about any of this.

We sat quietly the rest of the night, lost in our own thoughts. As the sky was beginning to lighten, the roof door opened quietly.

"I thought I might find you two up here."

Beaming, Cinna walked toward us with a breakfast tray loaded with toast, eggs, sausages, juice, and sweet fried dough.

"I hope you guys had a good night's sleep because President Snow intends on providing the Capitol citizens with some entertainment while the railroads are still blocked," he said, a little too loudly. "He's invited you to view highlights from past Games with Caesar and commentate them. You'll be dressed and on your way in a few hours."

He set down the tray on the ledge behind me. I caught a glimpse of his face as he passed me. His eyes were exhausted and lined with shadows. It looked as if he had spent the entire night worrying.

"The cameras are watching and listening," he whispered quickly. "There are rumors of infected citizens and Peacekeepers. Be careful and watch what you say. "

He straightened and smoothed out his shirt.

"So Portia and I will meet you in your rooms to get you ready for cameras," he continued as if nothing was awry. "I think you'll like the dress I've designed for you, Katniss. See you in an hour or so."

He gave me a meaningful stare before retreating out the door.

"What-?" Peeta began.

I put a finger on his lips and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"We're being watched. Act natural. Something's wrong."

Shaking my head to prevent him from asking more questions, I picked up the tray and put it between us. We picked at the food while watching the sun rise above the mountains. Squinting, I could just make out a section of mountain that looked depleted. Was that where they had caused the avalanche?

We finished eating quickly and silently descended the stairs. I walked into my room and found Cinna standing by the window, staring down into the streets.

"Hey," I greeted, closing the door. "So what do you have for me?"

Smiling, he silently gestured to the bed. Across it, a grey, streamline dress was laid out. It was incredibly simple, loose, and comfortable looking.

"Are you sure?" I asked him.

"You're going to be sitting on that couch for a long time," he replied, helping me out of my sleepwear. "I want you to be as comfortable as humanly possible."

He helped me undress and slipped the knee-length dress over my head. Its material was silky soft and moved easily. The skirt was full enough for me to run in and the bodice was loose. It was nothing like the gown he had made for me at my initial interview with Caesar. That dress was fire; this dress was ash.

"I love it," I said, smiling into the mirror.

He led me to the seating area and gestured for me to sit.

"So I thought it would be a good idea for us to have a little chat," he said distractedly, checking his watch constantly. "The day seems ripe for a good recap of the Games so far. The people are going to enjoy it entirely."

He kept rambling on and I grew increasingly concerned.

"I don't know if you've ever worn organza before but I've had-"

He suddenly cut himself off and stared into an upper corner of the room. Nodding his head, he hit the timer button on his watch.

"Camera's off. Katniss, we've only got a few minutes so listen closely and no interruptions. The zombies have spread much more quickly than anyone could have predicted. Crane was executed quietly last night instead of publicly today like we had thought. Snow forgot to instruct the Peacekeepers to make sure it was a headshot. He reanimated and infected almost everyone in the building he was kept. It's only a matter of time before this gets out of hand. We're getting you and Peeta out of here to safety. After dinner, meet Haymitch and me on the roof. Pack everything you would like but make it light. If you get the chance, let Peeta know. If not, convince him."

His watch suddenly beeped rhythmically and he cut off.

"So now that you know how to properly care for the dress during your interview, let's get you fully prepped."

Stunned, I detachedly watched the prep team flounce through the door and apply makeup and hair product until I was declared "camera ready!"

I was quiet and tense the ride to the Caesar's studio and noted, with little surprise, that Peacekeepers swarmed the place. Peeta tried to initiate conversation several times in the elevator and car but I brushed him off distractedly.

I finally got my opportunity when we were left alone in the waiting room backstage. Two Peacekeepers were left to guard us outside our door so I spoke in a hushed tone.

"Peeta, the zombies have reached the Capitol," I said, still stunned at the situation.

"How?"

"I'm guessing some of them got past or around the avalanche," I speculated. "Cinna also said that Seneca Crane bit a bunch of Peacekeepers when they killed him last night."

"Last night?" he asked, befuddled. "I thought Haymitch said…"

"So did I but apparently he came back, like Rue and Cato did," I said, clenching my jaw at the memory of Rue's hungry face. "Cinna said that we're getting out of the Capitol tonight. When you get back to the Training Center after this is over, pack everything you want to take with you."

"Where are they taking us?" he asked.

"Well, I assumed District 12," I replied. "Where else would we go?"

Shaking his head, Peeta leaned forward and placed his head into his hands, elbows on his knees.

"This is surreal," he muttered. "What if this takes over the entire country?"

"As long as I can get home, we can protect our people from them," I said confidently. "We survived it in the arena; we can survive it out of it."

Smiling, Peeta nodded at me and took my hand. We sat silently until a producer in a lime green wig came to get us onto the stage. Caesar was his usual exuberant self and quickly launched into the highlights. Halfway through the third year's highlights, I heard shouting behind the stage. Leaning backward away from the speakers, I tried to make out what they were saying.

"…bitten. Why didn't you say something you idiot…"

"Well that was certainly a good year!" Caesar announced at the end of the video reel. "Those tigers really added a certain level of da-"

He was cut off abruptly by gunshots directly behind us. A man in a bloodied Peacekeeper uniform suddenly fell through the curtains, tearing them down and revealing a gang of angry Peacekeepers, one of whom still held his gun. I jumped to my feet and rapidly backed away from the dead man, Peeta putting himself in front of me.

Everybody in the studio was frozen in place and stared down at the dead Peacekeeper, the hole torn through his a cheek oozing blood onto the stage floor. His white jacket had been torn at the shoulder to reveal a bruised and bloody bite. I edged backward again. He had been bitten. He was infected.


End file.
